Aiming for the Heart
by mccoylover
Summary: This is a post Criminal Law piece I was challenged to write.  Basically what happens after Jack's last comment to Alex.  As always: There Dick's, not mine.  R and R please.
1. Chapter 1

"I thought he was aiming at me."

The vulnerability of that statement melted the heart of Alex Borgia as she instinctively moved closer, joining her superior on the courthouse steps.

She reached over, finding the usually steady hands clammy and shaking. Jack McCoy looked at her, the warm feel of her smooth hands jarring him back from the moment frozen in his mind. The dark eyes where still wide with terror, softening slightly as he met her uneasy gaze. Borgia held his gaze as she silently squeezed his hands while they waited for Fontana and Green to arrive.

Borgia's statement was brief. She'd only just stepped out of the courthouse when Leland Barnes was shot by his oldest son. By the time she got to Jack, the shooter had been restrained and Barnes senior was dead.

"Thank you Ms. Borgia," Joe Fontana said as he closed his note pad. "you're free to go."

Borgia looked over at McCoy and Green. She could see McCoy was trying to put on a brave front. His voice weary, but steady. A bit more color in his face since Green had the paramedics look him over and give him a mild sedative. She looked down at the hands by his side. Looking carefully, she could spot the trembling, until McCoy caught her and self consciously his hands disappeared into the pockets of the dark suit jacket.

"Jack won't be in any shape to ride his motorcycle," she replied. "I'd like to wait for him, see if he'll let me give him a ride."

"He'll be all right, Ms. Borgia. The protective detail-" Fontana began.

"Come on detective," Borgia said softly. "you know Jack. Now that Barnes is dead, his son in jail, Jack's going to send the detail on their way, the first chance he gets."

Fontana nodded in agreement as he went to interview the next witness. Sure enough twenty minutes later, McCoy had dismissed the protective detail. He grudgingly accepted Borgia's offer when he realized the streets around the courthouse was still sealed off from incoming traffic; no taxi's in site.

"Alex, you didn't have to stay," he said as they walked towards the parking garage. "I'm fine."

"Well I'm not," she said earnestly. "walking our there and finding you on the steps, not thirty feet from a dead man…. I guess I haven't seen enough to harden myself to that kind of shock, yet. Maybe you were right when you implied I should go back to where I came from."

McCoy's jaw dropped for the second time that day, staring unbelievingly at she unlocked the car door. Once inside he turned to her, his eyes shiny pools.

"I'm sorry, Alex," he said as his voice cracked as his defenses crumbed. "I didn't mean it…I never should have-"

Borgia felt her own eyes well up as she reached for him.

"Hush, hush, Jack. It's alright," she said as she stroked his cheek, wiping the tears away as he pressed her to him. "I know. You're safe, it's over now."

She continued to hold him, rocking him back and forth as the emotions he'd fought so hard to keep to himself flooded out. As they embraced she felt her desire to comfort and console McCoy slowly turning into something surprisingly more intense and significantly less chaste.

When she began working with McCoy, she already knew him by reputation. "Hang' Em High McCoy' was a legend in the DA's office. Most certainly the next choice for DA when the time would come for Arthur Branch to step down. McCoy's drive to win was common knowledge. As were McCoy's ill-fated affairs within the DA's office. While the rumor mill seemed to dry up several years before with the death of Claire Kincaid, a few of the senior staff in the Narcotics Division had felt obliged to warn her against the legendary McCoy charm before her transfer took effect.

Rather than being intimidated or put off by any aspect of McCoy's character, Borgia was intrigued. In the months she worked with him, Borgia found McCoy's courtroom style riveting, his office manner professional. While he could be demanding and one sided at times, usually his conduct was friendly and supportive, never harassing or predatory.

"Better?"

McCoy nodded.

"I'm sorry you had to see that Alex," he said as he reached for his handkerchief..

"Jack, don't apologize for being human. Listen, I have my cell phone with me. Do you want to call any one before this hit's the evening news - your daughter, ex wife, Jenna?"

McCoy shook his head.

"You know the situation with Becky. As for her mother, she'll be fine knowing I wasn't the one who got shot. As for wife number two - she'll be disappointed I _wasn't_ the one that got shot," joked.

"You really shouldn't be alone right now. What about Jenna?"

McCoy sighed heavily. McCoy had been dating Jenna Matthews for almost a month when they were met after lunch by Fontana and Green the day the Leland Barnes nightmare began for McCoy.

McCoy shrugged his shoulders.

"She broke it off," he said simply. "Can't blame her after today."

Borgia nodded as she started the car. She thought about McCoy words, stunned by the pleasure it gave her to know he was no longer involved, that he was free to do whatever he liked with whomever he liked….

_God, Alex get a grip_, she thought as she maneuvered her car through the rush hour traffic. _The man's in shock…he's been sedated…the last thing on his mind is sex…the last thing you need is to not only sleep with you boss, but to initiate it… talk about a fast way to loose his respect, to loose your credibility…._

"Alex, are you all right?"

Borgia looked over at her boss flushing slightly.

"Maybe I'm more shaken up than I thought," she said making a half hearted effort to cover.

"Of course you are," he responded apologetically. "I should have realized that instead of falling apart on you."

"Jack, stop. I'm fine, really. I just, well I was just thinking…" she stammered suddenly feeling very young, very foolish, and very unsure of how to proceed.

"Alex something is obviously on your mind," he pressed as she pulled in front of his building. "I'd like to think you're comfortable enough with me to tell me what it might be."

Borgia turned off the ignition and faced him. She looked into the deep brown eyes that seemed to see through her. She'd always found McCoy an attractive man, especially for a man of his age. The first time he'd changed from work attire into jeans in her presence, she'd found herself at first flustered, then quickly, intrigued as she glimpsed the broad shoulders and muscular legs….

_Alex, stop it…Jack's older than your father_, she tersely reminded herself as she looked away. _Save what's left of your dignity and say good bye…_

Borgia looked back into his inquiring eyes.

"I was going to ask you if you had any wine,' she heard herself say." You were right. I am still a little shaky. I thought may be a glass of wine would calm me down."

McCoy looked at her intently, as if he was trying to read her thoughts, to try to answer an unasked question.

"You're not trying to baby sit me are you counselor?"

Borgia laughed softly.

"I hate to admit it, but I think I might be the one in need of some babysitting, as selfish as that is under the circumstances."

_What the hell are you doing?? As if a man like Jack McCoy can't see right through such an obvious manipulation…_

McCoy wordless got out of the car. Borgia turned away, mortified that she'd been caught in such a juvenile ploy. She was about to turn the ignition key when McCoy opened her door, offering her his hand.

"I'm not sure about the wine," he said as the car door closed. He continued to hold her hand as he looked down at her. "But whatever I have to offer, you're welcome to it counselor."


	2. Chapter 2

As the elevator doors closed Borgia tried to keep her mind focused on the shooting, as opposed to the possibilities that came to mind with McCoy's all too innocent sounding remark.

"I suppose we'll have to file charges against the son?"

"Why is that even a question, Alex?"

"After what Leland Barnes did…witness intimidation, murder…his son did what the system couldn't," she said bluntly.

"As relieved as I am to have Leland Barnes out of the way, the end doesn't justify the means Alex," McCoy said seriously.

"Jack, the man tried to have you killed,' she said softly. "If he'd succeeded…if you'd been shot…" Her voice faltered as tears began to well up once more.

McCoy put his arm around her shoulders as he ran his free hand through her hair.

"Alex, like you said it's over," he said gently. 'Leland Barnes isn't going to be able to hurt anyone again."

Borgia sucked her breath in suddenly, the feel of his hands on her overwhelming her senses and her mind.

Without thinking she reached up, bending his head down as she strained to reach his lips. She could feel McCoy's momentary hesitation and began to pull back when she realized what she had done. His hand moved from her shoulders to the small of her back as he recovered from his initial surprise. His other hand held her head still, while his tongue slid between her lips.

By the time they entered his apartment Borgia was dizzy with longing. As the apartment door slammed shut, McCoy's mouth was working it's way down Borgia neck, her back pressed against the door, her arms around his neck. She wasn't sure if it was the events of the day that made their impending coupling such an urgent need or the fact that she was finally not only acknowledging the desire she'd denied for months, but that McCoy seemed to ache just a badly for her.

She moaned softly as she felt his fingers begin to unbutton her blouse. His hands now steady and sure. As he opened the blouse he unclasped the clip at the front of the simple white bra. He stepped back, gazing with admiration at her exposed breasts. There eyes met as his hands began to fond the warm firm, flesh.

"Beautiful, Alexandra," he whispered as he found her nipples. "your body is as exquisite as everything else about you."

Borgia felt her body weaken as his lips found her breast, McCoy working her into a near frenzied state before turning his attention to the other breast. She felt lightheaded, as if she were in a dreamlike state. She could hardly believe what was happening and the effect it was having on her. She clung to him as she leaned into the door overwhelmed by the urgent need between her legs and the sensations of his hands and mouth on her.

Unable to stand it any longer, she pushed him away as she tried to regain control of her senses. He looked at her inquiringly as she reached for him. She pulled the suit jacket off in one motion as one hand struggled to remove his tie, the other hand tearing at his shirt.

"Alex, slow down," he said as he helped her with the tie.

Borgia looked up at him, her eyes wide, her hunger apparent.

"I can't", she countered as she pulled the shirt off his body, unaware of the buttons that fell to the floor. "You of all people know, life's is too short for games."

She ran her hands over him excited by the feel of his chest, the scent of his body. Borgia ran her hands over the bulge between his legs, McCoy sharply taking a breath as he pulled her to him. His mouth ravished hers as he lifted her off her feet and into his arms.

As they entered his bedroom, he set her carefully down on the bed. She reached for him. As he leaned over her, McCoy ran his hands over her body. As he kissed her mouth, a hand began to run slowly up her leg, sliding between her legs and caressing her inner thigh. Borgia pulled him closer as she rubbed her chest against his. She strained to open her legs in the confines of the skirt, finally breaking the embrace as she kicked off her shoes and reached for the zipper.

"I don't want you to have regrets later," McCoy said as he tried to catch his breath.

Borgia smiled up at him.

"Actually I should be saying that to you, Jack. You're the one on a sedative right now. I shouldn't be taking advantage of the situation."

McCoy looked down at her grinning sheepishly.

"You think you're taking advantage of me? Alex, be serious," he said frankly. "You would never have come up if it wasn't for what happened at the courthouse. You were genuinely concerned for me-"

"Of course I was concerned. A man died today, it could have been you."

"Or you," he countered as he put a arm around her, laying beside her. "You told me yourself you were afraid to stand next to me after Green and Fontana discovered that hit list."

Borgia looked up at him puzzled by his sudden change in attitude. Did she go to far? Misread the situation? Suddenly she felt a sense of dread.

McCoy lifted her chin, sensing her concern.

"Alexandra, you are a beautiful young woman - inside and out. Any man would be proud to have you give him a second glance, much less give yourself to him. As a man, I've wanted you from the moment you walked into my office seven months ago. As someone with a daughter that's almost your age, I feel compelled to give you a chance to stop and think about whether this is what you really want."

Borgia lay back down, blown away by his words. Flattered, yet slightly confused and agitated at the same time. She thought a moment before defiantly returning his intent look.

"Do you want me to go?"

McCoy pulled her to him kissing her lips gently, as he held her tightly. Borgia looked up, seeing the indecision in his eyes.

"This isn't about what I want. It's about what's right for you," he said quietly.

"Jack, what do you want me to say? That this was an impulsive mistake? That I got caught up in the moment?"

"If we do this, it will change everything - it always does."

Borgia turning away from him as she felt tears begin to blur her vision.

"Things changed the second you saw that gun today," she countered, wanting to say 'things changes the second you touched me'. "Damn you Jack. You act like you're the one that made this happen, I took the initiative - doesn't that say something to you?"

McCoy silently watched as she stood up and went into the other room. A part of him longing to go after her to have what she was so ready to offer; Alex Borgia in his arms, in his bed, in his life. Yet he remained where he was, knowing to do other wise would be unforgivably selfish.


	3. Chapter 3

McCoy sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his face in his hands. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the feel of her body, the sweet smell of her perfume, the taste of her lips - images that had replaced the visions of his life flashing before him on the courthouse steps.

He knew he'd hurt her. He also knew momentary sting she felt now, would do far less damage, than if he gave in to the feelings he'd suppressed for months.

It had been years since he'd seriously thought of pursuing another assistant. After Claire Kincaid had died he'd been far too shattered to even consider a relationship with Jamie Ross. When Ross left to spend more time with her daughter, her replacement's fiery personality had immediate caught McCoy's attention. However, when Abbie Carmichael began as his assistant, McCoy was involved with a history professor at NYU. By the time that relationship had ended, Carmichael had revealed to him the rape that had left her emotional scars that still hadn't healed. The revelation cementing a strong and deep bond of friendship between McCoy and herself.

McCoy felt protective of Serena Southerlyn, due to her youthful idealism, almost immediately upon meeting her. Her reaction when she learned of his history with some of his assistants amused him, as well as sent him a clear message. He didn't realize the extent of her disinterest until the night Arthur Branch fired her, when Branch confided the details of his meeting with Southerlyn.

By the time Alexandra Borgia graced his doorway, Jack McCoy's reputationwas all but extinct, except to select members of the senior staff.

McCoy remembered everything about the first time she stood in his doorway, patiently waiting for him to look up. What she wore, how she wore her hair, her soft spoken nature that he was wise enough not to confuse with shyness. While not intimidated by McCoy in the least, Borgia had a quiet strength about her that had always impressed him. For someone so young, she seemed wise beyond her years.

It was those traits, as well as her breathtaking beauty that had stirred McCoy from the start.

Finally he opened his eyes, getting ready to seek out the bottle of scotch he kept on the kitchen counter.

Borgia stood in the doorway. Her eyes dry, watching him with quiet certainty. She had removed her clothing, wearing only McCoy's discarded dress shirt, which fell loosely over her slender frame, held together by a single button. His eyes widened in surprise, as he felt his body's respond while his eyes traveled over her. His resolve to do the right thing, almost exhausted.

"You're right. Things would change," she said quietly as she moved towards him, sitting beside him. "Maybe it's time they did."

"Alex," he began. His voice hoarse, his throat suddenly dry. "you're making it very hard to take the high road."

"I guess being so close to death as made me bold," she gently as she touched his cheek. "you never answered my question."

"I'm sorry," he said murmured as he fingered the lapel of his shirt. "what did you ask me?"

"Do you _want _me to go?"

McCoy stared down at floor as he responded with a single word.

"No."


End file.
